


confictura

by agotdamnclown



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Author Can't Tag, Autism Spectrum, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Childhood Memories, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS EXIST IN ANY FANDOM, Nightmares, One Shot, brite's parents have names but im not tagging them, but im tagging anyway bc ill probably write more for this universe, in this universe blood is on a color spectrum of white to black, instead of red, no beta we die like men, sort of? i guess you could call it one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agotdamnclown/pseuds/agotdamnclown
Summary: repressed childhood memories are fun. having them rear their ugly heads in the middle of night isn't as fun.---backstory for an original character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	confictura

**Author's Note:**

> i should make it clear now that this universe isn't a part of any existing fandom, rather an original one made by a friend of mine. it's probably risky of me to post this when no one has any real knowledge on this universe, but i can probably do a quick rundown here-
> 
> hydroling: a humanoid with fish-like characteristics, like scales, sharp teeth, and webbed hands/feet.  
> rigitan: basically humans with more effective magic.  
> hydrinam: a small island where most hydrolings reside.  
> medeis: the large kingdom home to the rigitans.
> 
> anyway i wrote this for my english class and im tired

_A young Hydroling at the age of 4, she had just woken up from a light slumber after hearing frightening sounds._ _Yelling, and the sound of a door banging and slamming. Was papa fighting with someone again? She noticed that he had done that more often these days. She swam to the edge of the small pool she slept in, when suddenly-_

**_BANG!_ **

_A deafening sound filled the small house. She cried out in pain and clamped her hands over her ears. The noise rang and repeated in her head, blocking out everything else._

**_BANG! BANG!_ **

_More of the painful noises rang out, tearing into her like sandpaper. She couldn’t see through her tears. Whimpering, she kept her hands over her ears in expectation of another shot. However, nothing else happened. After a few minutes, she had calmed down enough to clamber out of the pool and slowly walk into the hallway. She stuck to the walls, where she wouldn’t get lost in the scary darkness. Peeking down the staircase, she timidly called out._

_“...Mama?”_

_No response. She darted a few anxious glances around her, before she took a few deep breaths and gently walked down the steps. Her hand gently grazed the wall as she prepared herself for whatever she might see. Broken plates? A crashed window? She wasn’t in any hurry to find out, but the silence drove her into anxious curiosity. She continued on, her breathing soft and slightly trembling._

_The silence. It was torturing her. She wanted to hear comforting reassurance. She wanted to see her mother peek out of the kitchen (has the kitchen light been on this whole time?) and laugh that hearty laugh of hers, assuring her that she simply dropped a plate or two. She wanted to see her father awkwardly trying to step over the shards, muttering profuse apologies under his breath for startling his wife._

_She really hoped they were okay. She didn’t see them much, but she still loved them a whole lot! Right?_

_Right. She did. Maybe she should check the kitchen? It looked like someone tripped in there, or maybe forgot to switch the light off. Mama always told her the importance of keeping unused rooms off to save electricity. She can go turn it off and then she’ll have done something good for the day! Maybe her mother would look up from her big papers and screens to acknowledge her, to tell her that she did a good thing, tell her that she’s proud of her. Even if it was something as small as turning a light off. She hasn’t heard those words in a while._

_Thoughts of her mother’s reaction spiraled through her mind, almost causing her to lose focus of where she was. She shook her head, partly to clear her thoughts and partly for the nice feeling it gave her, and approached the kitchen doorway, expecting to see Mama sweeping up glass shards, firmly telling her to put her shoes on if she’s going to come in here. ‘You don’t want to cut your little feet, do you?’ She’d say. Of course she didn’t wanna cut her feet! Not after Papa misstepped on a bumpy road and wasn’t able to walk on his leg well for a few days._

_A warm smile overtook her face at the memories of that day. Her bright laughter as her father feigned agony and despair from his relatively small injury to make her smile. He was always looking to brighten the mood, even if he was kind of scary sometimes. It was a shame that he wasn’t around as much as he used to be, she missed him a lot._

_But enough of that! She had to investigate the scary sounds she heard earlier. They definitely came from the kitchen. Why else would it be the only lit room in the house? Just one small glance and she’d be able to see that nothing was wrong, that someone had only dropped something. Nothing_ too _bad happened here. Nothing-_

_..._

_She saw gray. Blue and gray. Wet, sloppy gray that clung to the ground and dried and crusted against the still bodies of her parents._

Her parents.

_With a shrill cry, she ran towards the closest figure: her father. His eyes were glazed over and grayed. He didn’t look like he was really here, like he was barely holding on. Tears streamed from her eyes as she fell to her knees next to her father. Her Papa. She shook his body weakly, and only then did she notice the gaping hole in his neck where gray blood gushed and spurted, and at that moment she could only hear the sounds of him choking on his own blood, trying desperately to get full, ragged breaths in._

_“Papa!” Sobs shook her body, making her words come out messy and weak. She shook his body once more, and_ finally _he weakly tilted his head in her direction._

_“Lu… Luv-” A choked cry came out of his mouth as his hands sharply yet shakily moved towards his neck. Trembling, his hand gently moved over the shredded wound, and he looked at her with pain in his eyes. Still, he attempted a sheepish smile, like that would fix any of this, “It’s… I-It’s oka-” He couldn’t get the word out through a violent coughing fit, and it looked as if the blood coming from his wound suddenly surged. Her sobs turned into a wail as she hugged her Papa’s limp body._

_“P-Papa… Don’t go._ Please _don’t go.” She held onto his body tightly, afraid he would disappear if she let go. He was cold, too cold, and shuddering weakly in her small arms. How long would he be able to hold on? Maybe she could go get help, run to one of the neighbor's houses and make them get help._

_Before she could think any further, her father’s arm weakly moved to rest over her back. His breath was becoming more and more strained, but he still tried to speak. “S… I-I’m sor…” A pause to catch what little breath he could, “...sorry.” His voice was weak and she had to strain her ears to hear him._

_She rapidly shook her head, “No! I-I can go get the person next door! They can get someone to help you! To help…” Only then did she raise her head to search for her mother. It didn’t take her long to spot her body lying limp against the fridge. She clearly stopped breathing a while ago. The tears came harder, and her voice dropped to a quiet mumble, “I can get help… You’ll be okay-”_

_Before she could continue, her Papa gently cupped her cheek, which only slightly slowed her breathing. With his weakening strength he only gave her a wobbly yet cordial smile. Tears streamed down his face almost as strong as hers_ **_(pain? sadness? she didn’t know.)_ ** _It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to her:_

**_“I’m sorry.”_ **

**_“It’ll be okay.”_ **

**_“You can do it without us. You’re strong.”_ **

**_“I’m sorry.”_ **

_This couldn’t be happening. None of this was real, right? This was all just a really bad dream, and soon she’d wake up from it. Her Papa would be gently shaking her awake to get her out of bed while her Mama would be making a delicious breakfast. A rare day when her whole family was together. That’s all she wanted. Not…_ this. 

_She gently laid her head down on her father’s chest, tracking tears on his blood-crusted clothes. Things started growing fuzzy afterwards. Her own sobbing became muffled, like she was suddenly underwater. She noticed her father had stopped moving at some point, but she couldn’t remember when. She couldn’t do anything else._

_She couldn’t feel anything else._

_She couldn’t…_

_…_

* * *

Brite shuddered as she awoke, breathing raggedly. She looked around as she tried to regain her sense of location, eventually realizing that she was back home **(home? but is it really home if she doesn’t feel like she belongs)** Her sister, Ingrid, was sleeping in the bed next to hers rather lightly. She looked comfortable. Brite used that obvious fact to try and slow down her rapid breaths.

“Come on... It’s alright. You just- just dug up some repressed traumatic memories, is all. Thanks, brain,” She chuckled at her slight personification. It wasn’t like you could control when your brain wanted to bring back terrible memories, right? If only...

She sighed deeply, rather irritated, pulling her covers off and trying to climb out of bed quietly. Ingrid was always a bit of a light sleeper, and she didn’t want to disturb her. Brite suddenly wiped at her eyes, not even noticing that she had been crying in her sleep. She groaned **(quietly, don’t wake ingrid up, she’ll ask too many questions,)** and slinked towards the bedroom door. Maybe a walk to the kitchen to get some water will be enough to tire her out. 

Though, she didn’t know if she really wanted to go back to sleep. Especially after that dream she just had.

She laughed shortly at her own expense, “Yeah, I’d rather not have more of those come up…” She vaguely remembered what happened after that moment in her old house. The police had been called because a neighbor heard the gunshots and saw a cloaked figure climb out of a window, never getting a good look at them. She’d been taken away shortly after they arrived, but she was _very_ unwilling to leave her father.

Everything was a blur after that. She was in a lot of different rooms that she couldn’t recall. The only notable moment was when a man, a Rigitan, showing up to the strange building. Shortly after, she found herself on a new island, Medeis, with a new, strange father and a stern older sister. She had **(still has)** a lot of questions about her father, but maybe it was better that she didn’t try and pursue them. She had a feeling nothing good would come out of it.

Brite didn’t even notice that she had reached the kitchen until she was splashing cold water on her face. She had accepted that she probably wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon, so she may as well wake herself up the rest of the way. How early was it, anyway? Shielding her eyes, she looked to the microwave on the back wall. _4:52._

Though, it seemed she wasn’t the only one to wake up at that early hour. She turned the sink off and downed the water from the cup. Only then did she notice that someone else was standing there. Her sister looked _very_ tired.

Brite jumped back a bit when she met Ingrid’s gaze, “Oh! Uh… sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” She chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.

Ingrid raised an eyebrow, and rubbed her eyes, “I got up because I noticed _you_ were awake. What’s up with that?” **(oh god she noticed, you weren’t supposed to wake her up why did you do that now she’s going to ask questions and you don’t want to answer them-)**

Brite shook her head quickly, trying to shut down the anxious thoughts. She gave her sister a toothy smile as she again laughed nervously, “Oh, nothing much. I just…” Her smile fell and she turned her head away from Ingrid, heaving a sigh, “Just, uh… had a bad dream. Of my old home.”

She didn’t notice that her sister approached until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked to see Ingrid giving her a sad smile, “That’s okay. I’m here if you want to talk about it,” She shrugged, “I’m already awake anyway, so I really don’t mind.” Brite stared at her in bewilderment, before returning the smile with her own.

“Thanks, but I don’t know if I really wanna think about all that stuff tonight,” She jerked her head in the direction of the living room, “But like you said, we’re already awake now. Maybe we can just… chill out for now? We probably won’t wake Intelectio.” **(not my dad, he’s not my real dad, is he? he took me in when no one else would. i don’t know anymore)**

Ingrid nodded, “Yeah, that would be nice. I have some stuff I needed to work on, anyway. Better to get it done now while I’m awake.” Brite patted her on the shoulder, mumbling something inaudible. Ingrid gave her a look, “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said not to overwork yourself too much. I know how much you love to do that.” She quipped with a sarcastic edge, playfully poking her sister’s cheek and receiving a light smack to her hand.

They could talk about this in the morning, if they wanted. For now, they could just relax.


End file.
